The Face of Nothing
by kelmerx
Summary: So somehow my semi normal homeless life became semi less normal. After a montage of things happened, I somehow landed myself in some geeky camp for the bas- ehm, illegitimate offspring of greek gods. Lovely, right? What was even MORE lovely? My evil twin happened to be there too. But the more I'm learning the more I'm wondering... is the evil twin really me? (M for safe)
1. AND! It All Went Black

Wow. So you guys have no idea how long it took me to figure out how to do this. Honestly, my tech ego just took a major hit. Anywho, I just wanted to send out a big hi there and hello to all of you gorgeous folks who happen across this and actually decide to read and no I'm not trying to flatter you into nice reviews or anything *sweats guiltily*. I mean, the cover alone, come on people, look at that catty goodness. But to keep this short(-er), I just want to hit a few things.

1\. Like I said in the intro, this is M for safe, because you never know where the chaotic speedboat of hormones and life can take you. Plus M is way cooler than T.

2\. This is following a character I made up, but I want to try hard to keep the main characters, so any CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is welcome.

3\. This story takes place in the time between the ending of Percy Jackson and the Olympians and the beginning of the Heroes of Olympus. I might stretch that time out if I need to.

4\. I'm not sure if this is how you really make comments.

4 1/2. If you're anything like me you didn't read any of this.

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 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything of Rick Riordan's much less any of his delectable characters. But if I did...**

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The day started like it usually did, me preparing for another day of being ridiculed, mocked, and, in general, made fun of. Oh, and "I" is, Dessa Drake. Anyway I was on my way to school, the School of the Progressive Arts, in D.C. I was their Community project, called 'Changing D.C. One Child at a Time', a long title for an equally long process.

They had taken me on when they caught me trying to steal some cafeteria food (now that I've actually _had_ the stuff don't ask me why). Instead of punishing me they started a campaign to get me sponsored, offered me free schooling and food. I had been extremely grateful at the time until I realized that the only reason they had done this was people were taking out their children because the school wasn't "involved in the community", so I had been a seemingly perfect solution.

They claimed that a "great percentage" of the money the parents paid went to clothing, feeding, educating, and housing me. That was a lie. They fed me, lunch, they clothed me, any clothes the teachers didn't want (I just ripped them up past recognition), and they left me in the alleyway I had always lived in. The only thing they had actually done for me was to educate me, but I suppose even for that I must be thankful.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't catch the cloying scent of too much cologne until my personal nightmare Dean Hombrit was already well within my personal space, "Hey Box, you ready for another day of humiliation?"

Rolling my eyes, I picked up the pace to try and lose him. I was, of course, unsuccessful. Really, couldn't they come up with anything better than that to call me? They had nicknamed me box because that was what I lived in, thinking that it was _so_ original. A snort made its way past my lips, if only they knew…for that matter, if only I knew.

"The only person who should be humiliated, you pretentious moron," I growled, "Would be the person who is incapable of brain activity higher than that of a one-celled organism."

I walked away then, knowing full-well it would take him at least ten minutes to figure out I had called him an idiot, and another ten to look up pretentious in the dictionary.

My first class was art, where Miss Bunom's assignment was to paint a picture of our childhood with our toes. At the end of the time she walked around praising the children's "obvious art skills" and speculating at what the paintings were of. Most of the kids had just splattered paint on the paper, and just agreed with whatever she guessed telling her she was a genius and asking how she knew. She soaked up the flattery like a sponge.

When she got to me she looked at it for about five minutes himming and hawing then finally said, "Dessa, I must admit I have no idea what this could be. Could you take it up front and explain it to the class?"

Deciding not to tell her that I didn't see anything to explain since the paper was blank, I dutifully grabbed it and went up front. Enduring the contemptuous glances and snickers coming from all around me, I took a deep breath when I reached by destination before finally turning around, holding it out reluctantly. Predictably, the room burst into laughter.

One kid, I have no clue who, said, "What did you do a picture of your social life?"

Apparently this comment was the whole classes' cue to start making tasteless and often senseless jibes at me. After that the whole room started hurling insults at me, while the teacher called for order. When everything quieted down I said, "Actually, my little genius, it isn't a picture of anything, I can't remember my childhood."

The rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.

The next class was mathematics, which I excelled at. Unfortunately, my potential was sadly wasted as my teacher was, for all intents and purposes, a philosophy teacher at heart. Said teacher, Mr. Allen, wrote an Algebraic problem of the first degree and then asked us to tell the first funny story that came to mind because of it.

Everyone told fuzzy warm stories about their childhood, or first crushes. When it got to me I told them about the time that I found some drugs on the sidewalk (really I'd stolen them off of some dude passed out on the sidewalk) and then nearly sold the drugs because I was starving. But, I told them cheerfully, I actually ended up burning them to keep warm at night and some passing stray got high off of it. I don't know. I get a good laugh out of it looking back.

The rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.

Next period was English, which I also happened to be decent at. Here, we were told to talk about the person we most admired using only "be verbs". Most kids stumbled their way through a paragraph or so on Marilyn Monroe's beauty or Abraham Lincoln's perseverance. The one word magician in class wove a fantastical picture painting the merits of Michael Jackson.

Me? I colorfully described Gertrude Lythgoe as a brilliant business woman and entrepreneur, detailing how I wished I could someday be like her. Those know knew who she was didn't know what to say. Those who didn't pretended like they did.

Either way, the rest of the hour was spent in awkward silence.

Finally, we had gym class taught by Mr. Briar, an old war veteran. He was grisly, ill-tempered, harsh, hot-headed, and mean. I adored him. He seemed to hate every child in the school, but every time I came in his permanent scowl would soften, his eyes would twinkle, and he'd say, "Cadet DuCot! How comes the war today?"

That was our joke to salute each other, he always told me that I had been and was at war just like he had been and that "we veterans should stick together". It had crossed my mind a few times that I was too old to be continuing this and that I should really just stop or at least be embarrassed. But honestly, I was so grateful and relieved that someone would talk to me that I couldn't bear to. He was one of my only friends. He was harsh and terse and worked me even harder than the rest of the kids, but he was my friend.

When I walked into gym class with my other friend Sam, he greeted me with his customary salute and said, "Cadet Drake! How goes the war today?"

I stifled my grin and saluted him back, giving my customary reply, "Just the same as yesterday Sarge!"

But then he said something he hadn't ever said before, the twinkle in his eyes dimmed and he looked for a moment he looked as old as time, "Well Drake, I reckon that's about to change."

Before I could ask him what he meant, the bell rang and all the other kids poured in. As I was jostled into the center of the gym, I noticed that somehow, Sam had dodged the swarm of kids, and was standing next to Sarge talking to him.

Now this may seem normal to you but let me tell you about Sam. He is afraid of everything, from spiders to teachers, especially teachers. They talked for another 15 seconds then he walked over to me and Sarge walked to the center of the gym.

"What was that all about?" I whispered.

He jumped, "What?" he said nervously, "oh nothing, I was, I was just asking what we were doing today, yes." He looked nervous and wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Oh," I said raising my eyebrow, "then I suppose you could tell me, just what are we doing today?"

He gulped, "Uhhh…"

Then Sarge's grisly voice came to her rescue, "Listen up, toad stabbers," He roared commanding instant attention, "today, we are going to do something very simple: self-defense."

I rolled my eyes as the guys pushed each other and did those dorky, brainless laughs they always do. Self-defense in a fifty minute period with a bunch of high schoolers? Ha. Yeah. Good luck.

Sarge continued, "You will all be paired off and one at a time you will fight each other, like so. Drake!" he barked I jumped to attention, "get over here!" I walked over, ignoring the snickers at my being singled out.

"Drake here will demonstrate." Then, without warning he swung at me, I had never seen anyone move so fast. I stared at his incoming fist, throwing myself to the side, and somehow I dodged. However, he swung again with barely a pause, giving me no time to regain my balance.

I closed my eyes knowing I wouldn't be able to doge this one and prepared for a blow. But somehow it didn't come. I tentatively opened my eyes and I saw him holding his fist in a dead halt right before it made contact with my open hand. He pulled away and didn't swing again, instead he said, "Good job Drake, you're done."

As he turned to the rest of the class and began saying the rules Sam whispered to me, "How did you do that?!"

Before I could answer, I heard my name called again this time when I turned I found myself looking at a tall, mean-looking, guy I didn't recognize. He was wearing a shirt that had a picture of the food-chain on it with grass, then a deer, then a human, but, to my surprise, it didn't stop there it went up, to a…Cyclops.

I peered at his shirt; it was indeed a Cyclops holding a human over its ugly head. The top of the shirt said "Who's on top now?" I blinked, but before I could ask about it he said, "We've been paired, get ready to die."

I rolled my eyes, at least it wasn't some comment about how I smelled like a dump (I mean geez it's not like I have indoor plumbing). Of course, I took this as a regular guy threat… little did I know just how wrong I was.

"Whatever," I decided.

As we walked into the ring I noticed him eying me like a butcher would eye a cow he was about to slaughter. I felt like everyone was watching us as we entered the ring, though they were all already busy 'fighting'. Which for the girls meant sitting around gossiping and giggling at the guys. And for the guys, 'wrestling' and showing off for the girls.

I looked at Sam for a moment, noticing he was talking to Sarge again. He was rapidly talking as if pleading, but Sarge was indifferent and held his hand up. Sam's mouth snapped shut and he looked fearfully at me, as I passed him I whispered, "Don't worry Sam, I'm homeless remember? I practically invented self-defense. Besides it's not like its for real right?"

He gave me a nervous look, which somehow made me feel like it wasn't that way at all. Pushing this from my mind, I turned to face my opponent again and, upon seeing the nametag smacked sloppily across his (large) pectorals, I realized why I had thought I had never seen him before. A million letter long name that didn't even make logical sense further increased my understanding. So he was new, he had a weird name, probably got picked on and so thought he could elevate his position by pushing down on me.

I glared. Well, just because he was at the low end of the totem pole didn't mean that I was lower. I was off of it entirely. Yep, had a pole all my own… wow, that sounded bad. Shaking my head from my quickly derailing train of thought, I focused on the problem at hand.

Finally we reached the mat and I turned to face him, only to nearly yelp in surprise. The sight that greeted me was a lot a feet tall with massive, bulging muscles that threatened to burst his clothes. Before I could ask him if he used steroids, he suddenly roared and my new frie-nemy Long-stupid-name-boy charged.

For being so big he sure moved like a bazillion miles an hour. Imagine have the world's biggest fastest freight train coming at you full speed, you still have no clue how scary it was. I rolled to the side as he punched into the floor where I had just been standing, creating a 3 foot deep crater.

In the face of this obviously physically impossible phenomena, I decided to simply ignore the impossibility of it and instead blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Watch it! Are you trying to kill me?!"

He grinned, I noticed his eyes seemed almost blurred together like I couldn't focus on them, "Why yes, Dessana Drake, that is the idea!"

He charged me again this time grabbing at me as he ran, with no other choice I jumped up on his lowered face then scrambled over his head, landing awkwardly, but safely, behind him. I heard him scream in pain as I landed between his eyes and pushed off (yeah, his face was _that_ big). When I landed on the ground I whirled, given no time to wonder how I managed that.

Unfortunately, my impressive acrobatics were soon pushed to the back of my mind as he turned. All I could do was stare in shock at his eye; not eyes, _eye_. He had one giant eye in the middle of his forehead (which explains why he was yelling when I jumped off of him). With a brand-new size six foot print in the middle of it. It didn't look pleased with the edition.

"What are you?" I gasped.

"I am Unipolycyclopines! And I am going to eat you!" He roared as if it should be impressive or something.

Now I could've screamed; I could've said, and I'm the president; maybe even god bless you, but all that came to mind was, "Your name is one-many-wheel-tree? No wonder you have anger issues."

He roared in rage and charged again, I knew that this time I would not be getting away and I got mad. "You stupid little messed up jerk you think that you can come into my school, ruin my favorite class, terrorize my, uh, 'friends', and eat me? WELL I DON'T THINK SO! BRING IT ON WHEEL-BOY!"

He was almost on top of me now, and he had leaned down so we were face to face. My only thought was that this was stupid. No seriously. This was an incredibly stupid way to die. I had always thought I'd die at the hands of a thug or from the cold. Getting killed by some ancient Greek monster? Not the way I had planned. And in that moment I hated him, that monster. And I had only one thought as I pulled back my fist and punched him with all of my might…

 _DIE._

He stopped…

He looked down at me his eye strange as it stared into mine. His putrid breath stung my face (my god was that _hair_ in his teeth?) and his heaving chest rested heavily against my fist. His eye lost all its hate as it continued to stare into mine, lost everything really, becoming strange and despondent. I felt his breathing slow against my fist, until suddenly it stopped. Dropping to his knees in front of me, he slid off of my fist and onto the floor as he slowly crumbled to dust. I stared at the pile of dust in front of me, shocked that I was alive, and even more shocked that he was dead.

Huh.

Well would you look at that.

It appears that not only do Greek monsters exist, I also happen to have Force powers. And here I thought I was just some homeless person. Before I could contemplate this further, the room around me became blurry and I sank to my knees as the breath refused to come into my lungs. Before I could start hyperventilating, suddenly Sarge was next to me, "Come with me Drake we have a place for you to be safe."

"Safe?" I murmured. Where was safe? What was… safe? Did I want to be safe?

Sam was next to me to then, "Yes. Safe, Des, come with us."

I followed them in a daze outside the fire escape door (a stray piece of rubble had already set off the alarm) just as the pile up of frantic teachers outside the locked gym doors, broke the lock and poured in. I walked after Sarge and Sam as fast as I could stumble.

The last thing I remember was lying next my cat, Jack, as Sarge talked to a rainbow with a face. It was a handsome young face with shocking ice blue eyes, an amazing smile and rich brown hair. And as I blacked out all I could see was that smile telling me it was okay.


	2. The Path to Rule

Thanks a lot for reading! I've had such a crazy fun first week of summer! I'm so glad to finally be playing ultimate and tennis again even if my knees are like, "You SUCK". I hope all you other college students are loving it too. And good luck to any seniors highschool or college. Now for a few notes:

1\. So first off, some of you may or may not be a little pissed on Dessa's view of things after reading this chapter. Just saying they are not my views! In fact I completely disagree! I love anicons, and geeks.

2\. I'm so sorry about my mistake in Chapter One where I called her DuCot instead of Drake. I changed the last name recently, so I guess I'm still not used to using it.

Okey I'm done.

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Rick Riordan's characters, cuz if I did the books would've never been finished and everyone would hate me.**_

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Whilst I slept I dreamed, as one is prone to do during fitful, light rest. I dreamed of all sorts of strange and impossible things that really went far beyond my imaginative capabilities and into the realm of alien. A thousand voices were screaming at me, calling a name, my name, which I could not quite hear. They demanded I save them, accused me when I didn't, screamed for me when I did. I dreamed of a runty little cyclops grinning at me and yelling, "Peanutbutter!" Then came the total blonde hottie repeating, "Nothing personal." As he disappeared (dangit!) there was a beautiful girl with her thick hair in a braid giving me the saddest smile I'd ever seen as she murmured, "Yes. You." And all the while in the background there was this terrible, screeching voice as cold as steel and tinny as metal laughing again and again and again, as if mocking my confusion.

But that wasn't all I dreamed of. There was swirling, confusing chaos. Dark and flashes of light. I watched as world after world was born, as each lived their lives and then were mercilessly destroyed, whether by themselves or another. I watched as beings, tall and terrible and almost to bright to look at, walked upon the earth and all of the lesser beings fled their steps. I watched as more beings, smaller and dimmer fought the great and terrible ones until one by one they fell. I watched as the beings were cast into a pit of darkness from where they would never rise. And then I saw civilization, humans, empires rising and falling, children growing old and dying, metropolises rising from little but a few meager huts. Again and again, I watched until I finally felt I could handle no more. And that was when I woke.

My eyes shot open, and searched around frantically for another person crying accusations for me failure or another goat asking if I was going to eat that can. When I finally, calmed a little I realized that I was in a farm house room, on a small bed with a glass of lemonade beside me and a chair. In the chair sat a friend. How nice. I smiled, "Hey there, Sam."

Sam, who had been sleeping, started and fell off his chair with a rather impressively high note issuing from his throat. When he got back up he looked confused and dazed. So basically he looked like he always did.

"Des, oh my gosh! You're awake, thank gods!" Considering the fact that he had just fallen off a chair (pfft embarrassing) I decided to let the speech mistake pass.

"Yeah, how long was I out?" I eyed the lemonade, lord I was thirsty!

"Two days I think, I guess you were pretty shocked at the Cyclops thing but Director says-"

"Wait", I said taking my attention off the all-important lemonade, "Two days? Cyclops?! THAT WAS REAL?!"

I didn't really realize I was shouting but I guess I was pretty loud because Sam said, "Woah, Des! Calm down! Do you want to send the whole camp running?"

But now I was hysterical, "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE CAMP! WHAT CAMP ANYWAY?! WHERE IS JACK! WHAT DID YOU DO WITH HIM? WHERE AM I?!"

I started getting out of bed then, but before I could take my rage monster show on the road Sarge walked in. Woah. Weird(-er). He was wearing ancient Greek-looking battle armor and he had shaved. SHAVED. Yeah, I know. I was a little disillusioned by this prim and proper Sarge who looked like one of those _major_ geeks who went to anime-cons or whatever (losers). However, he did appear to be Sarge, albeit a brainwashed one, and that was what mattered at the moment, so I calmed down just enough to stop code green.

When he looked at me his expression softened, "It's alright Private, you're safe now, and you'll be briefed soon. Your," he paused, " _creature_ is right here."

I was confused (and rightly so), why had he called me private? Had I been promoted?

Jack is a cat of sorts, he has large ears, a clipped tail and short hair. He's pretty large for a cat, almost as big as a bobcat actually, over forty pounds, but built very large so it's not fat. I met him on the street when I ran into some unsavory character. As the man was about to attack me, Jack came out and, well, shredded him. You wouldn't think that such a relatively small creature should be capable of incapacitating a grown man but um…yeah… he was.

I couldn't get rid of him after that. So, I eventually warmed to him and named him Jack the Ripper (trust me when I say that, it's very fitting). Anyway when Jack walked in I was suddenly very calm (funny how bright red eyes and razor sharp teeth do that to you right?). He walked over to me and meowed, well more like "mroarwed".

Deciding to live up to my crazy cat-lady destiny, I completely ignored the other humans in the room in favor of talking to my pet like any good crazy-pet-owner would, "Yeah, I'm confused too."

I noticed Sam had moved from the chair to behind Sarge when Jack came in and was even more confused, they seemed almost _afraid_ of him. Uh, no. Scratch that, Sam was definitely afraid of him, not that _that_ was surprising. And Sarge seemed wary, almost... nervous, which was most definitely surprising and even a little disconcerting. Hmm... maybe the Geek (see was I did there?) armor he was wearing had turned him into a wussy.

As if hearing my thoughts, Sarge's dark eyes zoned in on me and narrowed in a, "Disrespect me and I'll gut you through your nose" sort of way. I shuddered and quickly avoided eye-contact. Or not.

"So… what's going on?" I asked, then quickly answered my own question, "No, wait let me guess, the guy I just fought with is a Cyclops, from the Greek myths, which aren't really myths at all, and are actually real, the Greek gods and goddess' are real, they now live in New York on the Chrysler building and I am a child of one of them which is why the Cyclops thingy attacked me and this place is a refuge for demigods like me." I took a breath, "how close am I?"

Sam just stared at me drop mouthed, "Dead on. How-"

"Just a guess." I muttered.

Sarge didn't look surprised at all, in fact he was still eyeing me with that suspicious, "were you just thinking something bad about me" look, "Samuel take Drake to her cabin please. We'll have lunch soon Drake, but that's not the best time to see your cabin."

Sam stood up and it was my turn to be surprised. "You're a Llama?"

He made a bleating sound of disgust, "NO! I'm a satyr!" He gave me a black glare, "A llama," he scoffed, "must run in the family…"

I nodded, "A satyr. Of course, why didn't I guess?"

"Not a clue!" Huffed Sam in irritation.

"Sam", Sarge cut in smoothly, "her cabin, now."

Sam grumbled something under his breath then said, "This way."

I walked out the door and straight into the arms of the hottest guy I had ever seen. It was the face in the rainbow, but he looked even better in person. He was hot. Straight up, tall, dark and hot. Muscular, tan, the type of guy who when you saw on the street you straightened up and did your sexy strut and then once you were past him turned around and just enjoyed the view.

When he saw me his eyes nearly bugged out of his head for a moment (god the man made even _that_ look good), before he recovered himself and said, "What's up?"

Well, that was cool.

I pushed away from him, embarrassed, "I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was going."

He held up his hands, "Oh no, trust me when a beautiful woman falls in my arms, it's a good day."

I was flustered, usually I would've replied with a witty comeback or broken his nose but… This guy, he wasn't the type you saw on the street every day, and I'd know, 'cause you know, I live there. "Well," I said recovering, "next time you're set on having a good day, try not to take me by surprise. _I_ am _not_ fond of falling into the arms of strange men."

He grinned, then turned to Sarge, "Your right she _does_ have a sharp tongue," he cocked his head, "but you failed to mention the… uncanny resemblance."

Resemblance? Deciding that, no matter how gorgeous he was, a mere boy was not worth my time (or so I'd make him think, watch me work!) I turned to Sam, "Are you going to show me my cabin or not, llama-boy?"

Sam's foolish grin didn't break at my sharp tone, "Yeah, yeah, this way."

I could feel the guy's eyes on me as I walked away and I tried not to look like a complete klutzy idiot. Sexy strut, sexy strut, I told myself, smooth back and forth motions with the hips. Calm down girl, squealing and fangirling could come _after_ I was out of sight.

Sam leaned closer, "His name is Joel Bailey, but mostly we just call him Ace, well his friends at least, you can call him that." He grinned, glancing down at my hips significantly, "If you're interested that is."

I glowered at him and turned my nose up increasing my speed and abandoning my strut as we turned around a building, "I'm not. He's obviously a dumb jock, incapable of any type of mental activity higher than that of seducing some unsuspecting girl. Not my type."

Sam was undaunted, "I knew you'd like him. He was the first demigod I brought in, people say that he's as good at sword fighting as Percy is."

Sam puffed up with obvious pride, as if I should know who this "Percy" was. Me, I was pretty much just left wondering how they'd taught a dog to sword-fight ('cause, you know, Percy is a dog's name). As I considered this further we walked, and I got to have a good look around this camp. I won't lie, I was surprised by what I saw. I had expected something less modern looking with Roman-looking soldiers everywhere, like a boot camp or something, but it wasn't like that at all.

Not only was there a volleyball pit, there were strawberry fields (yuuum), a large building that said rec room on it, cabins, a huge forest, rivers, and 10's of other buildings as well (some in construction). And while there were some people walking around with weapons and armor, and some fighting, mostly the kids that were walking around looked just like any other teenage kids.

Finally, we came to a cabin set off by itself it looked sloppy and lopsided, like it'd just been stuck there as an afterthought. Very unimpressive, I thought, and generally I would've said so, but I was still thinking about Ace. However my lovely train of thought (and perhaps slightly dirty) was sadly blown of the tracks when I had the misfortune of walking inside.

My god, could I make a list of all the things not okay with this place?

I surely could try.

One, so many kids in this cabin you couldn't see the floor = not cool. Two, most of the kids were boys (I could stop there, but I won't) who looked sad, angry, mischievous or just plain weird. And three, that they had all been talking and now they were staring open-mouthed at me, Jack and Sam ( _rude_ ). Of course, I was used to scrutiny being who I was. And I was used to sad, mischievous and weird people being who I was. I also was used to being crammed together with other people who may or may not smell even worse than I did (when it's cold, you do what you got to do). But they didn't know that. They didn't need to. And so I sure as heck wasn't going to tell them.

An elfish looking guy around my age picked his way over to us, he looked at me and said, "Undetermined I hope?" Sam nodded and the guy smiled, "Hi, I'm Connor Stoll, head consoler for the Hermes cabin, make yourself at home."

I ignored his shifty look (I'm homeless you dunce, you really think I have anything worth stealing?) in favor of examining the two foot area he had gestured to on the floor. My first day of school flashed before my eyes. I remembered when I'd first arrived at school, determined to be the nice girl and be grateful for everything I was given. I remembered smiling at everyone who met my eyes and being kind and friendly. Then I remembered the bullying as kids realized that not only was I all alone in the world, I was also a push over.

Not. This. Time.

I marched over to two guys sitting on a bunk "Off."

One, the kid on the top, blinked, "What-"

"Off," I said again gesturing to the floor, "either you get off or I make you. Keep a little dignity or loose it all, choice is yours."

The same boy who'd spoken took one look at my face, one look at the bristling Jack and then gathered up his stuff and left. I ignored him as if he were beneath my notice, though inwardly I was celebrating, and focused wholly on the boy in front of me.

"Are you really going to let her do that?" He asked the first boy irritably before turning to me and saying, "Well whatever, I guess you're my new bunkmate then."

I sneered, "Yeah, I don't think so, you get off too."

He blinked again, "You already have a bed."

I grinned, "I do but," I moved aside so he could see Jack, "he doesn't."

The kid spat, "I ain't moving for no monster."

"I'm so glad you agree." Before he could do anything else I waltzed over to him grabbed his shirt and tossed him off the bed.

"What do you think Jack?" I asked not giving a sideways glance to the kid again, even as both Sam and Conner grabbed him to stop him from attacking me. Jack walked up and sniffed the sheets then turned his head away disdainfully.

"Yeah," I agreed, "I'm not thrilled about it either, but I'll soak the sheets in ammonia before we sleep in them."

Jack grunted in disgust then in a very condescending manner put his paw on the edge of the bed. I grinned, "I'll get to it then."

After stripping the two beds, I turned back to the head consoler and the cabin, "I'm so very pleased to meet all of you and I'm sure we will all get along famously, just don't talk to me and don't _ever_ touch me." with that, I gave another smile and then walked out.

"And that," I heard Sam sigh as I left, "is yours truly, the eighth wonder of the world and the greatest mystery to mankind, Dessa Drake."

 _Darn right._ I thought smirking, if I couldn't fit in this place, then I was going to _own_ it.


	3. Dat Face Do

So I'm exhausted, customer service rocks like an avalanche falling on your head, and I have absolutely nothing meaningful to say.

 **Disclaimer: Rick Riordan owns Rick Riordan and Percy and everyone else like that. Yep.**

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As Jack and I walked back across the camp toward the "big house" (the house I had originally been in), I considered all that had happened. As I did this, a thought happened across my mind, as they are bound to do when one engages in thinking. Whose child was I anyway? I mean obviously whoever it was, was a horrible parent, but who? Not Hermes, I decided, or Hephaestus or Ares or Athena, DEFINITELY not Aphrodite, or the big three, or Demeter, so who?

(Who, who, who, who am I? Who? Who? Who? Who? Thank you, Tim Hawkins.)

I then saw Ace on the porch of the big house, and all thought of it flew my mind along with other things such as the ability to breath and keep spit _inside_ my mouth. Next to him stood Sarge and across from them, sitting in a chair looking supremely pompous, was a middle aged man. With a boyish face and wild black curls, he was also pudgy, wearing leopard skin spandex and a Hawaiian shirt. I hated him immediately (if you saw _those_ spandex on _that_ body, you would too).

Sarge, Ace and Leopard-boy were apparently arguing. Or at least Sarge and Ace were, Leopard boy was just sitting there looking bored drinking a diet coke (as if he wasn't already lame enough). Unfortunately, the chance to sneak in and listen to what they were saying was sadly taken from me as when I walked up they stopped talking to look at me.

"Ah," sighed Leo through his nose, "Hades herself."

"I can be." I warned.

Sarge shot me a warning glance, then frowned, "What are you doing with sheets Drake?"

"I am going to wash them, two _thoughtful_ young men offered to give Jack and me their beds."

"Washing day is on Friday," said Leo, "and cats do not sleep on beds."

"Well, for me washing day is _today_ and _this_ cat does."

"Private," Sarge warned, "don't talk back this is-"

"I know exactly who it is," I interrupted, "this is Dionysus god of wine and parties and all of that good crap, banished here for a hundred years for chasing the off-limit nymph Daphne," I smirked, "twice."

Now Sarge and Ace looked perturbed. I didn't blame them. Thinking of it, I felt really disturbed too. I mean the _running_ alone with those _spandex_. Much less why he was running. _Yuck._

"Drake," Sarge asked, "how did you know that?"

Really though, they weren't the only ones surprised, I was starting to freak myself out. It was like I knew all of this stuff already, like I had met all of these people and knew them. Like they were old friends or enemies…

"Just a guess." I muttered.

"Anyway," D whined, "it wasn't my fault she was really, very beautiful, and I didn't catch her," he pouted, "Father is being so unfair, he just loves to punish me. And it's even worse now that that useless horse Chiron has gone and left me with all the responsibility."

"Whine on, baby." I said.

"Don't tempt me you impertinent brat."

"Takes one to know one Drunkie."

His eyes glittered for a second then he sighed through his nose, "If it isn't just like talking to that Peter Johnson boy, I'll forfeit my divinity. But I do like a little spunk, so I won't vaporize you today. Do try not to die before I get to kill you."

As he disappeared I yelled after him, "Yeah! That's right! You better run, Spandex boy!"

"Private," Sarge said severely, "you should be more respectful, you're lucky he didn't incinerate you."

"I don't care, he's a spoiled, over-grown, terribly fashion tasted brat and I won't just stand there while he insults me." I wasn't scared, this wasn't the first time I'd dealt with the snotty divine.

"Besides," Ace cut in smoothly, "he won't vaporize her, he likes her. The only one who'll ever stand up to him is Jackson, and as we all know, he's currently indisposed. Thus, he's bored."

"Anyhow," I said, feeling the anger I had briefly felt fading away, "I need some ammonia. You have any or not, and when's lunch?"

Sarge sighed in resignation, "Just leave them here and the harpies will do them, and lunch is," a coach horn sounded, "now."

Sarge walked back inside, and Ace turned to me, "I'll walk you."

We walked in silence for a while then he broke it, "So your name is?"

"None of your business," I sneered.

"Got a nickname?"

"Not for you." I quipped.

"I guess I'll have to come up with one for you then." He grinned.

I frowned at him, stopping, "You seem to think we're flirting, we're not."

He gave me a look I could only describe as utterly mischievous (ugh, the squealing hormones), "Only takes one to flirt HG." I raised an eyebrow and he explained, "Hot Girl."

"You can't call me that." I told him.

"You're welcome," he laughed, before turning and starting to walk away again.

I glared at his back (which was _so not_ hot), speechless for a second, before I continued after him giving this exchange up as a lost fight. I spent the rest of the short walk plotting my revenge, which was going to be _awesome_. Then we got to the pavilion and I got distracted (courtesy of my ADHD), because I couldn't help but notice it had no roof.

I also noticed several tables were pretty empty, whereas some, (such as the one Ace told me I had to sit on) were extremely full, like kids half on half off, full. I dutifully went over to the table where Ace told me to sit ( _his_ table, I noticed, had far fewer kids). But at the odd stares they were giving me, I felt compelled to just stand there and glare.

"Sorry," said the guy closest to me slyly, "But there are no seats left, looks like you'll have to sit on one of our laps." At this a snicker ran through the table and several boys even had the gall to volunteer, my eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, no." I replied, ignoring the traitorous relief I felt at the proverbial ice being broken, "You can squeeze in on the other side or you can sit your butt on the floor because I will have a one person distance on both sides."

Connor Stoll, who had been in the process of picking one of the other campers pockets looked up at me and smiled, "Talking like that won't make you any friends you know? You're probably Ares from the way you talk."

I cocked my head to the side, "I'm not trying to make friends, Stoll, and I did _not_ come from that meathead."

Everyone at the table flinched at my choice of words and looked up at the sky fearfully. A voice from behind me spoke, "You should be more careful with what you say, Drake. I'm usually all for freedom of speech and stuff, but not when it can get you and your cabin mates permanently cursed by some offended god."

I turned and looked at an exact copy of my cabin counselor. I was surprised for a second (my god it's the Replicator invasion!), but managed to keep a straight face until I could reply, "Well then, I guess if you're lucky I won't be your cabin mate for very long then, hmmm?"

He shrugged, "Suit yourself… it's like trying to argue with Percy, though you're a lot meaner I guess."

Connor spoke up from across the table, "No, Travis, It's like talking to Clarisse, except she's a lot smarter."

"Which one?" Travis asked.

"Who knows?" Connor shrugged.

I stood, deciding I was more than tired of listening to the twins' monotonic ( _and_ moronic) conversation, and began walking out. Maybe some fresh air will do me some… oh wait…

"Leaving so soon?" called one of the Stolls after me, but I didn't reply.

It was a little annoying I thought, as I walked out, all of these kids crammed in this little camp like it was some daycare for demigods. What, the gods didn't want to feel guilty about letting all of the products of their affairs get eaten so they dumped them here? Did that make them feel better about themselves or something?

I thought about it a bit, as I began walking through the camp. It was a pretty little place, and when it was all quiet like this I liked it, it was certainly a step up from where I'd been I couldn't deny. I got to the area where the cabins were and strolled over to the fireplace in the middle of them.

As I approached, I noticed a young girl there, maybe about eight or nine, stroking the coals gently with a stick. I hesitated, not really keen on the idea of company at the moment, especially young company. But when I saw her serene expression, I found myself walking forward anyway.

She didn't look up as I approached, though she certainly noticed me. She simply continued to gently stir the embers that glowed there as if she were making soup. I sat down a few feet from her and viewed her activity, not making to speak. She too, did not speak, simply tending the fire calmly.

I looked out to the sea before asking, "So which one are you?"

Her head tilted to the side as she looked up at me, so I clarified, "I mean which god's kid? You're here because you're a demigod right? So whose are you?"

She smiled a little before returning to stoking the fire, "You first."

"Hell if I know," I snorted, turning back to the sea again, "and hell if I care."

"Not a fan of the gods, then?" she asked fluidly, continuing with her work on the flames.

I shrugged, "Don't know them, so I can't say that I don't like them, but…" I sighed, rubbing the back of my head, "I don't like the way all these kids are dumped here like this."

"Like what?" she asked, the flames reflecting in her soft brown eyes.

"Like…" I searched for an explanation for this surprisingly intelligent little girl, "Like they're to-do tasks on a list that need to be checked off for the gods' peace of mind. Like they're old things the gods don't really need but can't bear to abandon, thrown into the attic and forgotten. Like that I guess."

"Talking like that might get you into trouble, you know," the little girl warned calmly.

I shrugged, "What are they going to do to me that hasn't been done?"

"Oh the gods can be quiet creative," the little girl smiled.

My head tilted to the side, "But you still haven't answered my question."

She laughed, "I guess I haven't. I suppose if I was the child of anyone it'd be… Kronus?"

I took a second to think about this before I said, "So you're a god."

She continued to stoke the fire, "Perhaps."

"Hestia." I continued.

Her eyes twinkled like a front porch light, "Bingo."

I observed her for a bit as she was only the second god I'd met, "So do you have any kids here?"

"No," she smiled sadly, "I made a vow of chastity."

I snorted, "Smartest thing I've heard all day."

She gave a small laugh that warmed me up like a pleasant fire, "Good to know you approve. Though sometimes I feel very lonely with no children, and I wonder about my vow."

I shrugged, "The only thing they're good for is doing stuff for you gods and sacrificing to you guys right? What's so great about that?"

"But," she hummed, "don't you think it's so lonely to be alone? Though at least I have my other siblings, even if they do forget my birthday sometimes."

I blinked at her, then I looked out back to the water, "I guess… I guess I can see that, the getting lonely I mean, it can be… hard to be alone. But," I added hastily as I looked back to her, "it's not like I want attention from my parent or whatever, or that I want to be thrown into a cabin with a bunch of other kids and be told they're family."

"You don't think so?" she asked lightly, as she gently prodded an ember to coax a little more heat from it.

Shrugging, I turned to the fire as well as I muttered, "Well, really, they're just a bunch of strangers right? Being shoved in with them is pretty much just like slapping my face with the fact that I don't matter at all. That I'm just one of many that came about due to some god or goddess that couldn't keep on their pants. Or toga. Or whatever."

The girl gave a soft smile, "It's true it is a bit of a messy family. But even so, I think that it's a blessing of sorts the gods are so… free… as you say. It causes plenty of heartbreak, yes, but when I think that it sometimes ends in life, in the addition to the family, I can't help but be happy."

I shrugged, "I suppose. It isn't like it's the kids' fault or anything that their parents are irresponsible and horny like bunnies."

A roll of thunder crossed the sky, and both Hestia and I looked up in tandem. "And that," Hestia said lightly, "I believe is our cue. It's been quite pleasant talking with you, my dear, but I'm afraid the gods will only stretch their patience so much in a day."

I considered telling her where the gods could shove their patience. But at the gentle warning in her fiery eyes, I bit my tongue and nodded instead, "Well, it was nice complaining at you anyways, thanks for listening."

She smiled warmly, "Feel free to stop by whenever you want dear. I'm sure I'll be seeing you again."

I laughed, "Only if I live that long."

She blinked in surprise, before laughing a little herself, which caused the fire to jump happily. "Indeed."

So then I wandered around camp. A lot happened. And by a lot I mean a lot of thinking, breathing and heart-beating. To spare you the overly exciting details of my walk, I'll simply skip to the next exciting part. And by that I mean the part where I met my doppelganger.

I was just passing by a great big tree with what _looked_ like a dragon on it when I heard yelling. I blinked rapidly and glanced around, trying to see where it was originating from, or if I was just imagining it. Then the dragon shifted and started looking down the hill to the outside of the camp. Oh good, so insanity is contagious.

Speeding my walk to a gentle lope, I headed towards the screaming that was rapidly rising in volume. As I got up to the top of the hill (but _not_ close to the great big dragon), I began scanning the valley below for the source of the distressed calls (ha). That was when I noticed the giant bull-man and some huge dogs roaring and trying to kill a few people. Ah, how quaint the attractions of the countryside.

Said people were dodging and retaliating quite magnificently, in my humble opinion. One, a girl with blonde hair, was currently giving one hell-hound a rather stylish looking new haircut, minus the head. Another, a satyr, was playing the _worst_ rendition of "Oops, I Did it Again" I'd ever heard on some pipes. The nearest hell hound must've shared my opinion because it flopped over and didn't move, proving that bad music _does_ kill you.

The last person was fighting the Minotaur and yelling something along the lines of, "You _again_?!" Before he leapt up and stabbed said beast between the eyes.

For my part, I sat my butt in the grass and wished really hard for some popcorn as the other two finished up on the respective foes as well. They all stood there for a moment, before slowly turning and coming up the hill. As they walked they made a few jokes about the fight and complimented each other. Well, more like made fun of, but I like to think that there were a few hidden gems in the heaps of garbage they threw at each other.

"What the heck _was_ that Grover? You nearly blew my ears out too!" the guy said as he capped his sword. It shrunk to a pen. I don't think that swords are supposed to do that.

"You like? I've been learning Brittney Spears lately. Nothing kills like some good Spears, monsters hate it." The satyr proclaimed proudly.

The blonde, who upon closer inspection was both pretty _and_ deadly looking, rolled her eyes and snipped, "Doesn't everyone?"

The satyr pouted, a weird look on his scrawny face, and said, "I sort of like "Gimme More"."

"Dude." The guy said, "Ew."

The satyr was just about to defend himself when he happened to see me, and stopped dead, gaping. Seeing his reaction, the blonde glanced at me, and then also stopped dead gaping. Curious to see, I turned to the guy and stopped dead gaping.

Finally noticing his friends' faces (slow much?), the guy said, "What're you guys…"

He stopped as he turned to me and (can you guess?) gaped.

Well. I thought, as awkward silence stretched on. At least now I _knew_ my face would look equally good on a guy.


End file.
